Lead Me into Temptation
by Otoko No Tsuki
Summary: So many things can be found in dreams, even things we can't realize ourselves. When a weakness of Dean's is found out beyond his knowledge he soon finds himself in a world where he is in a rough Marriage with Castiel. He must find his way out of this world by fixing his marriage and admitting his feelings once and for all only to fight a deadlier foe-a forgotten soul from years ago


So this is my first attempt at a Supernatural fanfiction. This is an idea I have been cooking up in my head for a while. It isn't set in any specific timeline, and the only characters used are the ones I felt most fit within the story. I hope you enjoy it and review it.

Just a little heads up, every chapter is going to be named after a certain song. This one is "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynryd. I will always let you know who sings the song that the chapter is based after.

Anyway, I hope you like this!

Simple Man-

Oh, he sleeps so soundly like a child. He is tranquil, serene. Such a peaceful face as he lies on his back, arms strewn across his pillow and his chest, dirty blond hair a mess. Yes, just so peaceful, indeed. He isn't even aware of the other presence in the room, nor should he be aware.

A woman, short in stature, thin in frame, beautiful at face stands by the door of Dean Winchester's bedroom. She watches him sleep curiously, slowly taking steps towards him as he continues to rest. Her heels click on the floor but Dean does not stir from his slumber and he won't until he is instructed to do so.

She reaches his bedside, peering down at him with a vacant expression. Her hand reaches up to cup his cheek, stubble scraping her palm gently. Her eyebrows furrow as she tilts her head. She then lets her hand trace down his face to his neck before she stops touching him all together.

"What does he want with you?" She asks, rhetorical of course. She simply wonders aloud into the dimly lit room, wondering what her reasoning is for being here in the older Winchester's bed chambers.

Of course she knows him, what demon or creature does not? She holds no vendetta against him or his brother yet she still agrees to gain the information she needs and there is no doubt in her mind that this information is going to be used to hurt him. Still, she does not disagree to obtain it. Still she is here, learning as she always does.

She sits on the edge on the bed, smoothing her pencil skirt as she does so then turns back to the sleeping man. Her hand reaches back up to Dean's cheek, her eyes dull as she watches his eyes twitch from dreaming. So sad to know his dream will soon change, still, only good dreams tonight for Dean.

"This won't hurt you," she informs him softly even if he can't hear her, "only me, just a little."

This woman, this thing, leans up getting her face close to his, so lost in a slumber he can't get out of. Their faces nearly touch now and then her lips are on his.

It feels like a headache. All these images, memories, emotions fill her head and every last one of them is about Dean Winchester. With her simple kiss, she knows everything about him. She knows every fall, every crush, every lust, every tear that has fallen. She knows every happy memory, every sad. She now knows every heartbreak, every fight he has ever had. She knows every last detail about this man, and he will never know that.

Seeing these things, seeing his life may be one of the more painful things she has ever seen. Her lips are parted as a tear runs down her cheek, slipping past her red stained lips.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers to him. It doesn't mean much especially from her but that's okay. She knows she means what she says and at least she will have that.

Her hand now goes to Dean's forehead. It's a little warm to the touch. Her eyes close and in a flash of light she is there. She is inside his head, inside his dream. It's so quaint in here; almost childish the dreams he has but that is to be expected of him. All he wants is a simple life it seems. All he wants is his little brother Sammy and his angel, Castiel.

She smiles, almost not wanting to end this happiness he is having, for this kind of contentment can only come to him in dreams. He is always worried, always in fear and almost never happy.

"Dean," she calls softly, making the images around him disappear. He turns to her, brows furrowed with a confused expression. It's the hunter in him. He senses something isn't right.

"Do not fear me, Dean." She requests politely. Her tone is soft, careful as she speaks to him.

"Who are you?" He asks, moving towards her slowly as if he is readying himself for a fight. She knows him now though, always on his guard.

"My name is not relevant," she informs him but this is not the answer Dean had wanted. He glares at her, fists clenching. He does not trust her. The form of her vessel doesn't seem to please him.

"Tell me who you are." He orders with a rough, stern tone. She sighs. "Who are you?"

"I can be whoever you would like me to be." She declares to him. "I can be anything you ever wanted. I can be your deepest desire."

"Oh yeah?" Dean speculates, "and what's my deepest desire?"

She smiles at him. Her job is never easy, this manipulation is so wrong but it is her job and it must be completed. She knows Dean's deepest desire even if he doesn't seem to know it himself or simply doesn't wish to admit it to himself. Her eyes close, and head tilts up. In an instant her image is changed. Her height is taller, her hair no longer a deep red but dark brown, almost black. Her eyes now blue and smile now crooked and chapped. Her cheek no longer smooth but stubbled with facial hair.

"Cas?" Dean calls out, looking him up and down. Everything about his stance has changed. He isn't stiff and rigid, he isn't in fear of what she may do. He is simply distracted because now...this is Cas.

"Hello, Dean." He beams as he normally would on any happy occasion to see him. He takes a few steps closer so their bodies are merely inches apart.

"What uh…" Dean stutters, "what are you doing here?"

"I was just here a moment ago." He points out about the previous dream Dean had been having where them and Sam were simply hanging around, chatting. "You act as if I'm not in your dreams often."

Dean feels the sides of his mouth perk up as his cheeks are tinged pink. He bites his lip as he looks back up at Cas who is still smiling at him. Dean doesn't even think about the woman who previously stood before him because all of his senses are consumed by his deepest desire.

"It's always nice to have you around, Cas." Dean says to him. "But do you need something? You seem...weird."

Castiel's demeanor changes, smile fading and head dipping low before perking back up to look the other male in the eyes. "I have a question I need to ask you if that's alright."

"Of course," Dean tells him, "go ahead, ask away."

There is moment of silence between them. A moment of averted gazes and awkward stances before there is a response.

"Why me?" Castiel asks. It's a simple question with a very deep meaning. Somehow Dean knows exactly what the question means. He knows because this dream is being controlled by that woman but that he is not aware of.

"You, uh…" Dean hesitates, uncomfortable to answer this question. He knows he shouldn't be because this is Castiel; it's Cas. This is his best friend but that is also what makes it hard to say such things. That's why it's something he has denied for so long. Still, this is a dream and Dean knows that so he can say it out loud. This can be like practice.

"The list is endless, Cas," he explains with words so heartfelt it hurts a bit inside his chest to say. "In the times where I doubted myself you made me feel like...dammit Cas, you made me feel like I was worth something. Dude, you gave up heaven for me, time and time again. You would do anything for me and even if that is scary as hell, it's so amazing to have you around and you need to know that. You really do."

"Why don't you ever tell me this?" Castiel asks with solemn expression.

"I guess I'm afraid to face something like that," Dean admits. "I'm already so scared if something happened to Sammy that if I made something actually happen with you, it might be harder to lose you. God knows it was hard with Lisa and Ben, to have something like that happen again, I'm not sure I could handle it."

"Nothing will happen to me, Dean," Castiel reassures him with a hand placed delicately on Dean's cheek. "I can promise you that."

"God, I really want to believe that," Dean sighs heavily as one of his hands reaches up to grab Cas'. "I want to protect you from...whatever the hell is out there."

"I know," he soothes, "I know. I just need you to trust me."

"I do," Dean says quickly, "I really do."

Castiel grins, pressing his forehead to Dean's and they just stand there, touching ever so gently, ever so lightly and it's calming just to have him around. Being like this, without fear of it being weird, is so nice that all of Dean feels at ease.

After a few moments of no words spoken between them, Castiel is the first to break the silence.

"I must be going, Dean." He announces, removing the presence of his body from the other's.

"Where are you going?" He asks, sounding like child that doesn't want his mother to go to work.

"I need to go," he repeats. "It's alright, Dean, you can wake up now. Sam made breakfast so you could sleep in. Go ahead. Wake up."

In a start, Dean awakens with a throaty gasp as if he wasn't breathing while he was asleep. He sits up straight, face dripping sweat as he tries to catch his breath. His brows furrow as he tries to remember what he was dreaming of, if maybe it was a nightmare. Usually he remembers nightmares while sweet dreams are so easy to forget. Still, to wake up in such a manner from a nice dream seems rather unlikely.

Doing the best he can, Dean shakes it off. His body feels shaky as if he has a fever, the tremors going through his arms and torso yet he isn't cold. This isn't normal, this he knows.

With unsteady legs, Dean rises from the bed, grabbing his bathrobe to wrap around his shivering body in hopes to warm himself up. It does a relatively good job so he shuffles his way to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast, and it's pleasing to know the bunker wasn't burnt down due to Sam's lack of cooking skills.

"What's cooking, Sammy?" Dean grumbles out, still coated in a thick layer torpidity.

Sam looks up from the pan, his long hair still a bit messy from his own sleep. He gives Dean a strange look and doesn't answer his question.

"Dean, you okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, why?" Dean questions as he tries to find himself a seat. Standing isn't working out so well for him right now.

"You're pale," Sam informs him putting some eggs on the plate in front of Dean. "Really pale, you look like you're sick."

"No, I'm fine, Sam." Dean waves him off, grabbing a piece of bacon from his plate. He still has an appetite and if he were really sick that for sure would be gone. "Just had a...weird dream or something. Trust me I'm fine."

Sam looks at his brother with a concerned expression but he has learned when to leave things alone with Dean.

"Alright, if you're sure." He says as he lets the subject go.

Sam takes the seat across from Dean at the small table and begins to eat. He watches his brother carefully still, even if he isn't going to bring up the possibility of him being sick again. He seems to be eating just fine, munching on some bacon as he reads the newspaper looking for a possible hunt.

"Already looked," Sam announces, referring to the newspaper. "No cases we need to take today."

"Odd," Dean grunts before sipping his orange juice. He doesn't put the newspaper down, as if he doesn't trust Sam's judgement.

Sam sighs through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek as he continues to watch Dean scan his eyes over articles in the paper.

"Dean," Sam says trying to get his attention, taking the paper from his hands to put it next to him. "There's nothing. Honestly, enjoy it, take a break and get some rest."

"I'm not sick, Sam," he tries to make very clear. His tone is annoyed and that is to be expected considering he isn't one to be defeated by something as minor as a fever. He has encountered far worse in his line of work.

"I know," Sam responds quickly, putting a hand up in defense, "but you're obviously...tired." He chooses his words carefully, doing his best to not get his brother too riled up in his current state.

"You obviously didn't get a great sleep last night-"

"Actually," Dean cuts him off. That statement Sam had just uttered could not be more wrong, "I slept awesome last night. I don't think I ever slept better."

"Really?" Sam questions not really believing that. "You don't look like it."

"I know, it's...weird," Dean mutters as he tries to wrack his brain for what he dreamt about last night but every last bit of it is gone never to be seen again. "I think I just had a nightmare or something like that."

Sam looks Dean up in down. The last time Dean was having bad nightmares was after he came back from hell and as far as he knows, his brother hasn't been stuck down there in a while.

"Do you remember this nightmare?" He asks seeing if maybe he could help out a little.

"I don't remember it at all," Dean answers honestly. There isn't the finest detail he can recall. "I don't know if it was some sort of weird hell dream or if it was you or Cas dying. I don't even remember who was there."

For a moment, Sam doesn't speak. It's normal for someone to not remember their dreams or their nightmares. Dean could be completely right that his dream just had him shaken up but there is no way to be fully sure unless Dean comes down with the flu.

"It's probably nothing," Sam finally says, "but you should still rest if you're feeling weird. It isn't a good idea to push yourself when you aren't feeling a hundred percent."

"Whatever," Dean mumbles as he rolls his eyes. He goes back to his food, finishing it up before he decides to go back to bed. Sam won't let him do anything productive today anyway so what else is he really going to do?

"So where's Cas?" Dean asks as he chews the last of his food.

"Not too sure," Sam sighs leaning in the back of his chair with his arms crossed. "I asked if he wanted breakfast but he said no. Don't blame him though since he can't exactly taste it the way we do."

"Did he go somewhere?"

"Again, not sure," he sighs again leaning his crossed arms on the table now. "He might just be in the library unless he is binging a new TV show again."

Dean smiles a bit at the little tease towards Castiel. That angel is always fascinated by the simple human things which is kind of endearing about him.

"Alright," Dean grunts as he stands from his chair, stretching his arms a bit. He feels a little better now that he has eaten, "I'm gonna go lay down then. If you need me you know where I'll be." He then knocks on the table with his knuckles twice to announce his farewell.

Dean lies in his bed, under the covers to warm his shivering limbs. The tremors came back rather quickly once he got to his room. Maybe Sam is right and he is coming down with something. He sighs into the empty room, feeling defeat from his own body. Slowly, he drifts off into a heavy sleep. Images assault his mind. Small, twitching images with so significance as if they are above his face as he sleeps.

There is a woman, deep red hair pinned up loosely and hazel eyes looking down at him. Her hand rests on his cheek and he can feel it as if it is actually there. Dean thrashes, hard enough to wake himself up and above him is no woman but Castiel who takes his hand away from him.

"Cas?" Dean asks to make sure he isn't still dreaming. Again, this dream he does not recall.

"You're sweating," Castiel states as he hovers above him. Dean doesn't say anything, he just tries to catch his breath.

Castiel sits beside him on the bed, peering over at him with a gentle look. He is awaiting a response or something from Dean before he heals his illness. Permission is something that is important to Dean and he will respect that boundary for now.

"Bad dream I think," Dean finally says knowing Cas isn't going to just go away now. Sam must have told him he isn't feeling well so it isn't a shock he is in here to try and fix him up.

"That's normal with a fever," Castiel informs him as if he is some sort of doctor.

Dean smirks quickly before it fades almost immediately. His whole body feels cold and rigid, not to mention weak. Castiel lifts his arm, two fingers ready to press against Dean's forehead. He hesitates just before he touches his skin and when there are no protests from the hunter, his fingertips press against his warm forehead. Dean feels the shaking feeling from his body vanish. He no longer feels cold nor does he feel warm underneath Castiel's touch.

"Better?" The angel asks, removing his hand from him.

He seems worried about Dean; it is written all over his face. Over the years the angel has really learned some new emotions. It may have been from the time he was actually human, so now he can feel just as anyone else can or at least close. Dean has been close by for every transformation Castiel has gone through. For every last bit of growth his best friend has gone through, Dean has noticed every last bit of it.

"Yeah," Dean clears his throat, sitting up straight in his bed now. "Thanks, Cas."

"You're welcome Dean," Castiel nods before getting up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" he asks, the question shooting out of his mouth so quickly he seemed offended his friend is leaving him so soon.

Castiel turns back to face him. "You need your rest, Dean." He tells him, in a voice that is more harsh than usual making it seem like he is ordering him to stay in bed. "I may have healed you but still, we don't need you getting sick again. Lay down. Would you like something to drink?"

Dean rolls his eyes at his friend. "You're not my maid, Cas." he grumbles. "And I'm not made of glass like you and Sam think. I'm getting out of bed and we are going out and doing something."

The hunter blots out of bed, the blankets falling off of the side onto the floor with the force they were thrown with. Castiel looks from the thrown blankets back to Dean, squinting his eyes in that trademarked confused expression that he tends to hold a lot. Dean grins cheekily, feeling up beat now, moving to his dresser to find some clothes to put on.

"Dean, I don't think-"

"Okay, hush it for a sec." Dean orders once he has jeans, a tee and flannel hanging over his arm. "There is nothing out there today that we need to go investigate. For once the frickin world isn't ending and you healed me up nice and good so I no longer feel sick and gross. Right or wrong?"

"...Right but-"

"But nothing," Dean cuts him off. He is serious about this. They haven't had a night out in a while and in all reality this feels like something that they deserve. "Go tell Sam to get his butt up and ready to go the bar. We're gonna have some fun."

"I'm not going to be able to sway your decision am I?" Castiel asks, aware he is reaching that pesky little thing called defeat.

Dean looks up from the clothes he has just thrown on the bed. "Nope, not even a little."

The angel sighs but he can't fight the smile that invades his face. Even when Dean is being as stubborn as a mule, it is that, that always keeps Castiel smiling and one of the many reasons he cares for Dean. He is persistent and that is something to admire. There is a lot of him that is something to admire, more people need to see what Castiel sees, at least that is how the angel feels. If more saw Dean the way he did then the more Dean could be at ease, or that's simply the way he thinks it would be.

"Alright, I will tell Sam that we are going out." Castiel announces as he shrugs. "He isn't going to be very happy with you though."

"Yeah well, when is he?" Dean jokes taking off his robe to remove his shirt from last night that is still drenched in sweat. "I'm gonna get in the shower and then I'm gonna get dressed and then we're gonna get in the impala and go."

"Understood," Cas laughs. "I didn't need the novel though."

"Okay, you've been around me too much if you're starting to be a smart ass with ease."

Castiel finally leaves Dean to do what he needs to do before they go out. It took a bit of convincing for Sam, but knowing that he was feeling better made it a bit easier to agree. They found the nearest bar, shooting back drinks after starting out with simple beers. All they did was talk, laugh and have a good time. Quite similar to the dream Dean had before it was interrupted by _her_.

It was a fun night and they enjoyed it, every last one of them. It really isn't too often they can go out and enjoy themselves and it was exactly what they, Dean more than anyone, had needed.

This.

This happiness is exactly what Dean would love to get used to, but he is well aware he can't. As he watched Cas sip his beer then smile as he laughed at one of his crappy jokes, as he watched Sammy unwind and laugh with them he felt so...at home. That's where he is. Honestly, there is nothing more true than that. Sam and Castiel were what home were made of.


End file.
